


we could be immortals

by bellamysblakes (puddingandpie)



Series: prompt fills [5]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Forever AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingandpie/pseuds/bellamysblakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart can't die. He hasn't died since 1566 and won't be dying anytime soon. </p><p>When he dies for Kingsman, he has the opportunity to get out of the lifestyle, to run away and never look back.</p><p>Eggsy is the only thing that is standing in his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PROLOGUE

The rush of cold was a familiar feeling for Harry Hart, and it was something he had felt often in his 449 years on this earth. Waking up after death was a familiar feeling for him, but he hadn’t experienced anything like this in well over thirty years, which was enough time for a boy to grow up and a father to die.

Harry Hart was born in 1566, to a family of farmers in England, which wasn’t really the best place to be born, but he managed. He worked all of his life, tending wheat and barley fields until he contracted smallpox at the age of 22 and died.

His mother and father mourned him, and buried him hours after his death, not realising that something had happened to him, something that would have been okay if it wasn’t for the fact that he was now buried alive and suffocating to death underneath the soil once every couple of seconds.

It took him three days to dig himself out of that ground, and by then, it was a relief to not feel the burning sensation of no air in his lungs that he didn’t even think about his parents or his sister, who were now gasping and crying in horror to see him sitting on top of his own grave, clutching his chest and heaving.

But instead of calling it a miracle, they called in a priest to see if he could expel the demon from his body, the demon that was keeping their _baby boy from passing over from this Earth._

He was chained down to a table for another three days, with only very limited food and drink shoved down his throat whenever the priest was around to make sure that the demon didn’t grab any other family members in its clutches.

Two weeks later, he escaped, through the kindness of his sister slitting one of the ropes that held his hands down to the table.

The next years that followed, however, were some of the worst of his life. All the way until 1603, he was living on the streets as a beggar, stealing when he could and killing himself when he ended up in jail so that he could escape, even if that meant he condemned the other men in his cell to death.

He ended up in a very bad place, and it took Harry Hart over 300 years to climb out of that hole. And then he found Kingsman.

His name wasn’t really Harry Hart, but it was a good name, a name he liked, and a name he was going to keep. He had created that name for the purpose of joining Kingsman, because what use was having infinite lives if you didn’t use them to save others.

But, even though he had signed up to one of the most dangerous career paths on the planet, somehow, he hadn’t died in over thirty years. Maybe it was because he had improved his skills, maybe it was because he was immune to diseases. But he didn’t know and he didn’t care.

He was just okay with what he was doing, okay with himself, and everything was okay. And then he died, got shot in the head by a man named Valentine.

He had a whole plan mapped out, about what he would do if he was killed in action while working for Kingsman. He had two safe houses in every country, all purchased under different names using money earned by those people. He would flee to any country and wait there, becoming a stock broker or someone who could earn money from home but not enough to attract attention.

He would wait until Merlin and Arthur and the rest of the Kingsman were dead, before even thinking about venturing into London again.

And he would have gone through with it, because there was an opportunity right now to get out of this life, and to keep himself safe.

He would have done that, if it wasn’t for Eggsy.


	2. HARRY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up in a dirty pool and meets Eggsy again.

**HARRY**

He knew he was going to die when he was in front of Valentine, no matter what happened. From that distance, the man wasn’t going to be a bad shot. Even though he hated blood, Valentine wasn’t going to hesitate to put a bullet in his skull.

This would have been all okay, except for the three security cameras that were surrounding him.

He knew a live feed of this was all being streamed to somewhere, most likely Kingsman. Eggsy would be watching this.

And it scared him, to know that he would have to go back to Kingsman looking like he was twenty-two instead of fifty. No-one would recognise him, no-one except Merlin, who was the one that first recruited him into Kingsman thirty years ago.

But, as the bullet entered his brain, for the last fleeting seconds that he would live this life, he thought about Eggsy, about how they were now the same age. Maybe it would turn out to be a good thing, if he ever decided to return.

He felt something touch his neck as he bled out, but he forced himself to stay, to not give into the blackness that was threatening to envelop him, but he couldn’t.

Later, he would find out that he disappeared the exact moment Valentine was gone.

 

The rush of water around him was familiar and comforting, but cold all the same. He found himself in someone’s backyard pool, which was going to be an awkward situation, but something he was going to deal with.

The pool was covered in leaves and algae, which meant it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks or months. But he had had worse situations than this, and there was not much he could do about it now, other than try to find a way to clean himself up.

Shielding his dick with his hands, he walked up to the house and knocked on the back door, glancing in the glass as he passed. And he was twenty-two again, the age he was when he first died of smallpox in 1588.

He knocked again, but there was no-one home, so he picked the lock and went in. The house was ragged and filled with clutter and junk, toys spread out everywhere and beer bottles and wrappers covering the floor like a carpet.

It wasn’t ideal, but he could see clothes, and that was a good sign. He walked through the house and put on the cleanest clothes he could find, knowing that he could pass it off as the walk of shame afterwards. He was twenty-two now, after all.  

The clothes he was wearing were something out of Eggsy’s wardrobe, all baggy and bright and stupid, but he liked them, because he felt like Eggsy was just a little closer to him, even if in reality he was further away than he could ever be.

He didn’t bother with a shower or a shave, because he didn’t want to cost this household more than he had already. From the looks of it they were struggling, so he would send reimbursement some way, with further investigation required to see who he would actually give the money too, because by the look of the beer on the floor…

He stopped himself there, because he couldn’t reimburse this family because he had not a penny to his name. He wasn’t a Kingsman agent anymore, which left him without any of the resources he was oh so used to.

He could go back to one of his safehouses and grab something, but he knew Merlin’s security back to front and if even one camera went down then he would send a team over in a few minutes, no matter if it was caused by a dog or a burglar.

Going back to the safehouse was not an option, not anymore, but decent clothes were. He couldn’t go out in a suit, because that wasn’t how twenty-two year olds acted, but he could get into some better clothes.

He had bank accounts all over the world, ones that were filled with money that he could access in any tight spot. But they were all registered to Harry Hart, who was fifty by record, and he couldn’t just go in and declare himself to be Harry Hart.

Because he hadn’t died in thirty years, the world was punishing him.

Except, there would be one account that was registered to the twenty-two year old. He always opened one for a twenty-two year old, one every year, all to different banks in different countries and under different names.

He could access that money, if he could get the paperwork, which was in one of his safehouses. Shit.

Everything lead back to the safehouses, which meant he had no choice to break in. And although he was a great spy, Merlin’s tech was better. He wanted the best for the Kingsman agents, which meant he was constantly updating him. And because he had just died, the system would have gotten another update, because that was Merlin’s way of dealing with grief.

He wouldn’t know any of the passwords because they all would have been changed, and he wouldn’t know where the cameras were. He was going in the dark, because he was supposed to be dead.

So he wouldn’t be dead.

And here he was, the famous Harry Hart, Kingsman agent extraordinaire, resorting to pickpocketing on the streets to make sure that he wasn’t going to starve to death, which wasn’t the best way to go. He felt bad when he did this, but he would repay the man when he could.

The fact was, because he was a Kingsman extraordinaire, he only heard the yells of the man when he was about three blocks away, giving him both a solid alibi and a chance to run. He ducked into a store, which was something more like what people his age would wear, picked out the first set of clothes he could see, brought them and changed into them.

“Walk of shame?” the lady at the counter asked him when she put the credit card through. “Pin or sign?”

“Something like that. And uh… sign,” he replied, stuttering out the last part for effect. The man’s signature was not overly complicated, and Harry had learnt to replicate it with just a look, a skill he had again picked up with Kingsman.

The lady nodded when he finished and handed him the other clothes in a bag. “Have a nice day!”

He left the store and saw the man that he had pickpocketed earlier was now talking to two cops, and was pointing in the direction that he had walked.

Harry knew that he hadn’t seen his face well enough to give a description, so he was probably describing the clothes he was wearing, which were much more distinctive.

He walked back the way he came, and directly past the man, feeling a twinge of guilt when he did. He was describing Harry’s clothes, like he predicted and he did seem to be fine, but Harry still felt guilty afterwards. Harry always felt guilty about what he did, even if it was something good. In life, there was always something to feel guilty about.

He found himself in a dodgy pancake house, ordering a stack of pancakes and a black coffee so that he wouldn’t charge the man too much. He ate like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, which was mostly true, and made sure that he was ready to go.

He felt the urge to straighten out his suit, but he wasn’t wearing a suit, which was one of the most unnatural feelings in the world. When he left, however, he was greeted with the realisation that Eggsy was standing outside, leaning against a car.

Oh shit.

Next to the dodgy pancake restaurant was a church, and in the back of the church would be a graveyard. Just his luck, he ate his breakfast right next to where he was supposed to be buried.

Eggsy’s eyes were red and Harry knew he had been crying, and he didn’t want to just leave him like this, but he knew he had no choice. There was not much he could do without revealing who he was and what his secret was, and even though he trusted Eggsy, he didn’t trust Kingsman.

The organization had fucked him over so much, that he couldn’t go back when he was like this. That would sign him up for the rest of his life in service to them, with no way out.

But he had to go and talk to Eggsy, he had to. This could very well be the last time Harry laid his eyes on him.

“You okay mate?” Harry asked politely, walking up to Eggsy.

“Fine. Someone I knew just died, so...” Eggsy said, trying to blow him off. If Harry was Harry, he would be undeterred, relentless in his pursuit to make Eggsy feel better. _But you aren’t Harry,_ he reminded himself. _You are no-one._

“Okay,” he said, unsure of how to continue.

“You look familiar?” Eggsy began, but then shook his head. “You can’t be him. For one, he’s thirty years older than you and two, he’s dead.”

“Okay,” Harry repeated, the conversation turning awkward.

“Shit. Well, I’m Eggsy,” Eggsy said, holding out his hand.

“Henry,” Harry replied.

“Three coincidences,” he mumbled under his breath, and Harry knew that Eggsy was unnerved by all of the similarities that he had picked up on between Harry and him. _You were always a smart one Eggsy,_ he thought fondly, _even if you didn’t realise it._

“Do you wanna get a bite? I’ll pay,” Eggsy stuttered out, and it took three seconds to realise that Eggsy was asking him out.

If this was happening when he was still Harry Hart, then he would have said no. It was not polite to go out with your mentor, or with someone thirty years your senior. But this time, circumstances had changed.

“I would love too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters for this are in between 1.5 to 2k, so not as long as usual, but i hope you enjoy this anyway :)
> 
> if you wanna talk about how much harry hart isnt dead come follow me @ belllxrke.tumblr.com


	3. EGGSY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they have pancakes and a fight

**EGGSY**

Picking up that Henry guy at the graveyard was something he would have never done if Harry was still around, but the thing is, he wasn’t.

He was lying in bed, Henry next to him, and wondering if he had done the right thing, if Henry knew that this was all just a one night stand to get another man off of his mind. But he couldn’t know something like that, which meant that he was going to hurt this guy.

Thoughts streamed through his head, and he knew that the only way to get rid of them would be to get up and occupy himself, but doing that just didn’t seem like an option right now. The thoughts were overpowering him, and he had to keep thinking them.

The most crazy of them was that Henry was a younger version of Harry sent from the past or something to make sure that Valentine never happened that overshot. Or maybe, Henry was Harry’s son. In the end, they all led back to Harry, which just made Eggsy’s heart ache even more.

He wasn’t supposed to be yearning after his mentor like this, but he didn’t think he could stop himself. There wasn’t much to do now, because he was dead anyway.

Harry Hart was dead, and Eggsy Unwin needed to move on.

He pushed himself out of the bed and walked to the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he walked. Henry was still sleeping, and Eggsy wanted to keep it that way.

Maybe he would make pancakes. Apple pancakes with cinnamon.

It was only after the apple pancakes were on did Eggsy realise that the only reason he wanted to make them was because they were Harry’s favourite sort. And just like that, everything once again revolved around Harry.

God, he was such a teenage boy sometimes, pining after someone that he couldn’t have. It was something that was more typical of him in high-school, but here he was now, doing the exact same thing as he had three years ago, when there was him and the star football player, just like in every rom-com he had ever seen, except he was the wrong gender.

He flipped the pancakes over, sick and tired of his moping and his whining. He wasn’t in high school anymore, and it wasn’t like he had any friends outside of Kingsman that he could mope too. He lost them all when he chased after Harry.

But he had a beautiful man in his bed, and maybe it was time to focus on that.

“Mm, is that apple?” Henry said dreamily, rubbing his eyes as he shuffled slowly into the kitchen.

“Apple pancakes,” Eggsy replied, beginning to dish them up. Henry pulled up one of the breakfast bar stools and watched eagerly as the pancakes were dished up. The moment he took a bite, his eyes widened for a few seconds as he turned the flavour over in his mouth.

“Do they have cinnamon in them?” Henry began cautiously.

“What, are you allergic?” Eggsy got out, opening the first drawer in search of an EpiPen.

“No, no,” Henry said, quick to reassure him. “It’s just these are my absolute favourites.”

That struck a chord with Eggsy, just like everything else Henry had said to him. He was like Harry’s younger clone, or his son or something. They were just too alike to be a coincidence, to meet him right after he was done visiting Harry’s grave.

Every muscle in his body was protesting now, to try to do something with the knife he was holding as he shifted to the seat next to Henry on the breakfast bar. This guy was suddenly shifty, just because his favourite pancakes were apple and cinnamon and his name was Henry and he looked so much like Harry.

Even though Harry was dead though, that didn’t mean that this guy wasn’t someone sent by another organisation to exploit Kingsman when it was at its weakest point in years. This could all just be a setup from someone else.

He fiddled with the knife a bit more, raising a section of the pancake to his mouth. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly awkward and tense, and Eggsy could tell that Henry was feeling that too. He needed to relax Henry somehow, so that he wasn’t expecting any sort of move that he could pull on him with just a few seconds notice.

He continued to eat, while coming up with what he should say and where he should go and what he should use. A Kingsman should always have a well thought out plan, and he needed one now, especially if this guy was someone dangerous.

But the only thing that was coming to mind was sex, and Eggsy was more than reluctant to use sex as a weapon. He knew that the moment he did, he wouldn’t view it the same way. It would become a tool to get what he wanted, not the gentle, loving thing that it should be. But this time, he had no choice.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Henry said, trying to push Eggsy off from where he had began to kiss his neck.

“Nothing, nothing!”

The moment Eggsy uttered the last word, he picked up the knife from the bar and pushed his whole body against Henry, expecting him to stumble against the wall. Instead, however, he sidestepped out of harms way, and Eggsy stumbled instead.

“I don’t want to hurt you Eggsy,” Henry said, sounding much too much like Harry for his liking.

“And why don’t I believe that?” Eggsy growled, pushing himself off of the wall and launching himself at Henry again. But the man sidestepped him with ease, too much ease to be a natural thing. This man was definitely trained by someone, someone who was probably out to kill him.

“You just need to trust me Eggsy,” Henry said pleadingly, but all that did was anger him further.

“I met you a day ago after visiting the grave of the person you are trying to impersonate. Sorry mate, you’re thirty years off,” Eggsy said, picking up one of the kitchen knives and lodging it into the wall behind Henry.

He didn’t know whether he missed on purpose or not, but something inside him was telling him that maybe he should trust this man. But all of his Kingsman training was telling him the opposite. Harry had taught him the opposite.

“Please Eggsy,” Henry pleaded.

“And why should I believe you?” Eggsy spat, picking up another knife and poising it above his shoulder, ready to throw it. And then he stopped.

“Oxfords not brogues,” Henry said quickly, a tear running down his cheek. Eggsy’s hand went limp and the knife crashed to the floor.

Oxfords not brogues. That wasn’t a Kingsman statement, or a code word. That was a Harry thing, something he had told him once to get him out of trouble if he ever needed his help drastically. If Eggsy ever needed Harry’s help specifically.

And now here was this stranger, so similar to Harry, saying all of the same things and acting the exact same way as Harry had, but this time he was so much younger, and Harry was oh so dead.

“What?” Eggsy stuttered out, and Henry pushed himself off of the wall.

“Oxfords not brogues. The words written on the back of the medal that was given to you when you were little and your dad died. Those words came with a number, one you could call and repeat the words to get you out of trouble. Harry Hart wrote those words. I wrote those words.”

“You’re too young to be Harry Hart,” Eggsy said, the insane element of this really beginning to hit him. This guy couldn’t seriously be claiming to be his dead mentor, could he?

“Kill me, and I’ll prove it.” That was completely insane, but the fact that Henry seemed to be completely serious just made him think about Harry. Harry would do this, Harry would trust him. He would throw the knife.

“What?” Eggsy stuttered out, wondering if he was strong enough to do this, or if he would cop out and just bring him into Kingsman. Harry stayed at the front of his mind, almost as if he was telling him what to do. Harry knew. Harry would always know.

“Throw that knife at me, the one on the floor. Then sit by the pool and wait, okay. Just trust me for five seconds. If it doesn’t work, I’ll be dead anyway.”

Eggsy didn’t reply, just bent down and picked up the knife, throwing it into Henry’s heart in one fluid motion. Henry fell backwards, but there was no thud on the ground afterwards.

The body was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys
> 
> the next two chapters will come by sunday hopefully
> 
> follow me on tumblr @ belllxrke.tumblr.com


	4. HARRY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Eggsy talk (argue) and rescues happen

**HARRY**

The rush of water was normal to him now, as he pushed himself off of the bottom of the pool floor and up to where Eggsy was sitting, staring out at the horizon. He folded his arms and put them on the side of the pool, reluctant to sit up next to him when he was totally stark naked. Harry Hart had some dignity left, after all.

“So, what’s the story?” Eggsy said, his voice blank and his eyes never leaving the horizon. Harry could feel the anger radiating off of him, and if he was honest, he totally understood. He was angry too, angry with this stupid curse but also so grateful for the fact that it allowed him to see Eggsy one last time.

“I was born in 1566, died when I was twenty two, and woke up the next day. That’s the short version anyway,” he summarised, staring up at Eggsy, who stubbornly refused to acknowledge his existence.

“And you’re Harry Hart? My Harry Hart?”

“Your Harry Hart.” It didn’t feel strange to call himself Eggsy’s, because if he was honest with himself, then he was Eggsy’s from the moment he gave him that medal.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” In that moment, Eggsy sounded so broken, so hurt by what Harry had done, that it made him regret it all, and he would take it all back, just to see him happy again, to see him smile when Harry was the cause of it.

He was acting like such a teenager now, with all the fluttery feelings and dreams of romance. But no-one but Eggsy could make him feel like this.

“No,” Harry confessed, and Eggsy’s face seemed to drop even more, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “I had to keep you safe, no matter what the cost. If I told you, you would just be in more danger.”

“And what if I told you you were worth it, huh? I would take that risk, if it meant another few years with you. Hell, I’d take a day if I could. So fuck you Harry. Fuck you.”

Eggsy was gone before he could stop him, and Harry knew that he couldn’t ask him for any sort of clothes or anything that was vaguely suitable to leave the pool when he was in this attitude. But yet again, Eggsy surprised him, storming back out of his house and dumping a suit on the grass next to the pool, along with a towel and a pair of oxfords.

And suddenly, he had hope that he and Eggsy would be okay. Even when he was furious, he gave Harry all of the clothes that he needed.

Once he was more comfortable in his suit, he snuck out the back by jumping a fence and walking out Eggsy’s neighbour’s house. It wasn’t the best way to go, but it was better than Eggsy getting a phone call from Merlin asking “Why in God’s name was your one night stand leaving your house dressed to a t in one of the Kingsman suits?”

To be honest though, Merlin probably knew where he was right at this moment. He had a habit of doing that, of keeping track of every Kingsman agent and their relations, which was currently him. And he knew that now he had associated himself with Eggsy, there was going to be no escape from Merlin.

He was annoying like that, but even though it was currently annoying, it would save so many lives. It would probably even save Eggsy’s life at one point or another. And then maybe it would be worth it.

Eggsy was always worth it.

He walked down the main street, noting down that no-one even glanced twice at him, which was something he had never really felt before. Here it was normal for twenty two year olds to walk down the street in suits, but it would not be normal for them to carry umbrellas, which was something he already knew he was going to miss.

He had died so many times, that when he was a twenty-two year old again, suddenly he used that persona as well, the one that talked and walked like a teenager. He was a Kingsman agent after all, and they were particularly good at navigating unknown situations.

And here now, without the support of the Kingsman network that he had come to so heavily rely on, with the one person who he loved most angry at him and with no-where to turn, he didn’t know what to do.

There was nothing in training that could have prepared him for this.

He found himself nursing a beer in a bar, something that was again normal for a twenty two year old, and staring blankly at the screen in front of him, which was playing a repeat of the soccer game from last night.

He sat there for god knows how long, never getting another beer or really drinking any of the one he was holding. He just kind of sat there, left alone with his thoughts.

And then a phone that he didn’t even know he had buzzed in his front pocket.

**FROM : EGGSY**

**harry we need u**

He didn’t even know that Eggsy had put a phone in the front of his trousers, but he wasn’t going to question it. He knew the inner workings of a Kingsman phone by now, and he flicked through them to pull up the coordinates of the other phone.

And his blood ran cold instantly.

Eggsy, along with three other Kingsman agents, were sitting smack bang in the middle of Valentine’s mansion, somewhere where they most definitely should not be. But yet they were there, and Eggsy was in a position where he could very well be in a life or death situation, and Harry could be the only person that could help him.

The rational side of him was telling him to stay out of it, because Merlin probably already had someone working on it. But it was Eggsy that texted him, saying that he **needed** him, which was something that was very much unlike him.

He read the text message again, and noticed that Eggsy didn’t say that he specifically needed him. He said that we needed him, meaning a group of them was in some serious trouble.

And even though his rational side was coming up with all sorts of protests about why this was a bad idea, his emotional side couldn’t deal with it. Eggsy was in trouble, and that kind of overruled anything else that could come out of the bag.

He had dropped his entire life once before for Eggsy, and this time he would do it again.

 

His safe-house hadn’t changed at all, no matter how long he had been away from it. Merlin knew that he was here now, because he had punched in his old codes and done the eye and fingerprint check, confirming that it was him, without a doubt.

He would probably be freaking out in his office right now, but even though it scared him, Harry knew that he would put it on the backburner for now, because when his Kingsman were in danger, nothing would stand in Merlin’s way to get them to safety.

He was going to keep Eggsy’s suit on, because it comforted him, but he didn’t know Eggsy’s house codes, and wasn’t able to raid his weapons cache. So here he was, standing in his living room and yanking down on the wall to flip it so that he could grab supplies.

If he was going to do this, he was going to do this properly. He had thirty years of experience underneath his belt, and he wasn’t going to let that go to waste.

Once he was all decked out, umbrella firmly on his arm, he felt more like the Harry he used to be than ever before. He had a strange urge to make himself some tea, even though he was a firm coffee drinker, which he dismissed.

 _Now is not the time for tea Harry,_ he scolded himself, _you have a mission you need to complete._

But it took him three seconds after stepping out his door that he really had no way to get there other than to hail a taxi. He had no comms, no way to call for backup and no-one had any idea that he was coming, much less that he was alive.

But this had to be desperate, or else Eggsy wouldn’t have called him.

Right now, he was putting so much faith that Eggsy was telling the truth, but Eggsy had never given him a reason to doubt him, so trust it was. It could be another person that had stolen Eggsy’s phone, but how would they know to text this number, much less that Harry was the name. Everyone in the world thought Harry Hart was dead, everyone but Eggsy.

For all he knew, Eggsy could have gone straight to Kingsman and told whoever Arthur was about Harry, about the fact that he wasn’t really dead. But he trusted Eggsy. It was his organisation that he didn’t trust.

If Eggsy did do that, then it could very possibly be Merlin sending that text in a ploy to lure him into a new HQ operated by Kingsman.

 _Stop Harry,_ he yelled at himself, _you need to just focus. Breathe and focus._

He was coming up with all of those theories in the taxi there, which was one of the most agonising waits he had ever gone through. The driver kept trying to make conversation with him as well, which made him all the more stressed and worried.

“Here we are. That will be forty-five pounds thanks,” the driver said, and Harry just handed him money without even bothering to count how much would be there.

If this works, he’d have a job again. If it didn’t, he’d be dead kinda, which meant that he wouldn’t have access to that money anyway.

The driver stared at him as he hopped out, straightening out his suit as he strode briskly towards his destination.

 _Oh god,_ he thought, _please be okay Eggsy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go with this! That will definitely be up by Sunday, but maybe tomorrow :)
> 
> I have a long weekend starting today, so I'm going to be spending as much time on that weekend as I can writing.
> 
> I have a vague idea about an epilogue, which would be a sixth chapter. Do you guys want me to write that or not? I won't if no-one wants me too, because I have two other fic's i need to finish and another sixty million i want to write, and so its totally in your hands. 
> 
> Also, if anyones seen the avengers aou, no-one else I know has seen it yet and I really need someone to talk to about it.
> 
> Come find me @ belllxrke.tumblr.com


	5. EGGSY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theres a battle and revelations

**EGGSY**

And here Eggsy was, almost praying for his life as he wished for the fighting to just stop for one minute so he could get out of here. But he was completely pinned down, with gunfire either side of him and his umbrella in tatters.

In his panic, he had sent a text to a mobile phone he had slipped into Harry’s pocket when he gave him one of his suits before he left, because there was just this feeling in his gut that was telling him that he needed to do that, because he was going to need to contact Harry. Even though the mission brief said this was just a standard mission, Eggsy’s gut was telling him that something was going to go wrong, and he had always trusted his gut.

So, much to the rest of the agent’s surprise, he whipped out his phone and sent the fastest text in history.

**TO : HARRY**

**harry we need u**

Harry would know what to do with that information, he always did.

“Who the fuck is so important that you need to text them during a firefight?” Roxy yelled at him, from her position crouched against the back of a table.

“You’ll see,” Eggsy replied, dropping the phone and pointing his gun back up to face the hoards of incoming goons, emptying his clip into four of them.

“Merlin?” Roxy asked, and Eggsy’s blood ran cold. If Harry didn’t turn up, he would have to have a psych eval and a whole load of other tests to make sure that he was still fit for duty. The logical explanation to the Kingsman doctors was PTSD, with a healthy side of hallucinations. But Harry was real, he was real as can be, and if he didn’t turn up to get Eggsy out of this mess, he would be stuck in even more, even if he did get out of this alive.

“Not important Roxy,” Merlin said over the comms, picking up on what Roxy was trying to ask him but dismissing it almost immediately. “What is important is the fact that you two are going to have your only opening to get it and run if you go when the three guys behind you are dead. I can give you two minutes, maybe three, but no more than that.”

Roxy emptied her clip and began to run, not even bothering to check who was dead or not. Eggsy followed suit, leaving the phone where it was. Harry wouldn’t reply, he knew that. He knew he was busy.

But the moment he lost sight of the phone, it buzzed.

**FROM : HARRY**

**on my way**

Roxy and Eggsy darted through the corridors, Merlin feeding them all of the information that they needed to know to get out of this mess.

“Left,” Merlin called. “Left again. Right. Left, then two rights.”

Eggsy felt himself getting tired, but he couldn’t stop running, not now. Roxy was clutching her side with one hand, her gun in another, raised and ready to fire at any moment.

“Galahad, Lancelot,” Percival’s voice came flitting over the comms, and Roxy gave an involuntary sigh of relief. “How close are you to the target?”

“Almost there, you?” she replied.

“Further out than you, but if you take the back exit, then Kay and I can cover your exit,” Percival said calmly.

“Okay, copy that,” Roxy said, darting down the hall. They could see the door, and were poised to move into it when…

“WAIT,” Merlin yelled, and Eggsy had to take a moment to clutch his ear as it stopped ringing. “There’s someone in the room, unidentified male, early to middle twenties. I can’t get a match right now, but I can tell you he has the target, and is chucking it up and down like it’s a bloody ball. Asshole.”

And Eggsy’s heart began to soar, because he knew exactly was in that room. If Merlin’s description was correct, then the only person that could be was Harry, even if he didn’t know the target was a bomb. But that was okay, because it meant he had come to get them out of this mess.

“I’m going in,” Eggsy said calmly, waiting for the scolding that was about to come. And come it did, in the form of Roxy blocking the door and Merlin shooting curses through his ear.

“What are you thinking Eggsy?” Roxy said incredulously, standing firmly in the doorway and waiting for further instructions from Merlin. “You can’t go in there.”

“Sorry Rox,” Eggsy apologised, before ducking down and kicking the door open.

“SHIT,” Merlin cursed over the comms, “WHAT THE FUCK EGGSY!”

But Eggsy wasn’t listening anymore, instead had already ducked into the room underneath Roxy’s arm and pulled his gun out so that it was pointing directly at Harry.

“That was a real risk you took,” Harry said calmly, smirking at Eggsy.

“Yeah, but I knew it was going to pay off,” Eggsy winked, noting that Roxy was standing behind him, confusion all over her face and her gun raised, safety off.

“Eggsy, who’s this?” she asked as calmly as she could manage.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Eggsy retorted, motioning for Harry to chuck him the target, which he did.

“Target acquired,” Eggsy said into the comms, and he could hear on the other end that Merlin had begun to shake himself out of his stupor, and was getting back to the task at hand, even though Eggsy knew that his mind was probably whirring at a hundred miles a minute.

“Seven men approaching from the front entrance, another five from the back. You three are going to have a firefight on your hands,” Merlin said over the comms, and Eggsy relayed the information to Harry.

“Great. Just great,” Harry said sarcastically, checking his clip and gun. “I’ll do my best to not get you killed.”

Eggsy could feel the confusion from everyone else but him, and he knew that even though he would probably watch him die yet again, this time it might be okay. It would hurt just a little bit less to know that even if he got shot multiple times, he’d still wake up in some water and be there to eat tea with him.

“Go!” Harry said, gesturing to the door, and Eggsy took Roxy’s hand and ran. He emptied his clip into a bunch of goons, as did Roxy beside him, and acted on auto pilot, not hesitating to shoot anyone in his way.

Eventually that stopped being necessary, once the pair entered the courtyard, because Percival was able to cover their six from his position. Eggsy had no idea where he was, but as long as he wasn’t getting shot, it didn’t matter.

“Eggsy, that man who saved you, he’s dead,” came Merlin’s voice over the comms, and Eggsy smiled a sad sort of smile.

“We’ll have to make a stopover to recover him, but other than that, that isn’t really that much of a big deal,” Eggsy responded, and he heard Roxy let out a soft gasp. He knew that she would give him a tongue lashing for saying that, but only when they were on board the relative safety of the plane. She would be much too tired to do that while running.

And a tongue lashing he got.

“What the fuck were you thinking, just saying that it’s okay for a man to give up his life for you, and then dismissing it as no big deal? No big deal. Now that really irks me, it does. Because he _died_ for you, and you just want to dismiss his life, just like you do with all of the men and women you kill. It’s all just about dealing with the grief isn’t it? You do it to deal with the grief of taking people’s lives. Well, here’s a newsflash Eggsy, you need to man up and deal with it just like the rest of us do. By actually dealing with it instead of putting it away forever and just letting all of that build up, because that never results in anything positive. Just, ugh!” Roxy yelled at him, before turning around and storming off.

“She’s right Eggsy,” Merlin said from his position at the computer. “You need to start dealing with all of these deaths, starting with Harry’s. He wouldn’t want you to be doing this, you know. He would want for you to accept it and move on.”

But to Merlin’s obvious surprise, Eggsy didn’t respond with _and what would you know about what Harry wants?_ That was always Eggsy’s argument, but now, he didn’t need to use it.

“Can we just stop at that lake down there? The massive one. There’s something I need to do there,” Eggsy said quietly, staring out of the window, and Merlin didn’t reply.

It took a few seconds, but eventually the nozzle of the plane spun around and they began a rocky descent down to the ground. Eggsy could sense that they were all confused about what they were doing coming down here, but for some reason, none of them questioned it. They probably all assumed that it had something to do with Eggsy’s grieving process. And in a weird way, it did, just not in the way that they thought.

He rummaged around in the back for some clothes that would fit Harry, and walked out and sat by the lake and waited. And waited. And waited. It almost seemed like Eggsy had gotten the location wrong, that there was a swimming pool or another lake that was closer. But when he was about to give up, Harry’s head popped out and smiled at him.

“Nice of you to come and see me,” Harry said, grinning.

“Yeah well, I can’t just leave the love of my life naked in a lake in the middle of nowhere, can I?” Eggsy retorted, matching Harry’s grin. “Brought you something.”

“You really know the way to a man’s heart.”

Once Harry was dressed and ready, they boarded the plane hand in hand, which Eggsy honestly thought was something he was never going to get the chance to do in his lifetime.

“Eggsy? Who’s this?” Merlin was the first to speak, to ask the question that was on everyone’s minds.

Harry stuck his hand out. “Harry Hart. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i finished something *cheering in the background*
> 
> anyway, everyone that commented requested an epilogue, and i've decided to write one, but it will be up in two weeks time, which will give me some time to focus on my two other fic's :)
> 
> however, when i say two weeks, that actually means whenever its finished, it will go up, because that's just how i roll :)
> 
> thanks for reading guys :)
> 
> follow me on tumblr @ belllxrke.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> ho ho ho, look its me, starting yet another thing :)
> 
> but don't worry, i have finished this thing off, and it only has five chapters, so it will all be posted in the next two weeks :)
> 
> this is a Forever AU, which is a tv show about a guy called Henry Morgan who can't die and he goes around with his partner solving crimes. i highly recommend the show, because i just find it so interesting and good and you should all go watch it :)
> 
> this chapter is really just a set up for whats to come, so get excited, :)
> 
> if you want to talk to me about how adorable eggsy is, follow me on tumblr @ belllxrke.tumblr.com


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